《安徒生童话英文版》第27章

　　An old hat; a man's hat. Now when might that havebeen washed overboard? She drew nearer, she stopped to look at thehat; "Ha! what was lying yonder?" She shuddered; yet it was nothingsave a heap of grass and tangled seaweed flung across a long stone,but it looked like a corpse. Only tangled grass, and yet she wasfrightened at it. As she turned to walk away, much came into hermind that she had heard in her childhood: old superstitions ofspectres by the sea-shore; of the ghosts of drowned but unburiedpeople, whose corpses had been washed up on the desolate beach. Thebody, she knew, could do no harm to any one, but the spirit couldpursue the lonely wanderer, attach itself to him, and demand to becarried to the churchyard, that it might rest in consecrated ground."Hold fast! hold fast!" the spectre would cry; and as Anne Lisbethmurmured these words to herself, the whole of her dream was suddenlyrecalled to her memory, when the mother had clung to her, anduttered these words, when, amid the crashing of worlds, her sleeve hadbeen torn, and she had slipped from the grasp of her child, who wantedto hold her up in that terrible hour. Her child, her own child,which she had never loved, lay now buried in the sea, and might riseup, like a spectre, from the waters, and cry, "Hold fast; carry meto consecrated ground!"

　　As these thoughts passed through her mind, fear gave speed toher feet, so that she walked faster and faster. Fear came upon heras if a cold, clammy hand had been laid upon her heart, so that shealmost fainted. As she looked across the sea, all there grew darker; aheavy mist came rolling onwards, and clung to bush and tree,distorting them into fantastic shapes. She turned and glanced at themoon, which had risen behind her. It looked like a pale, raylesssurface, and a deadly weight seemed to hang upon her limbs. "Hold,"thought she; and then she turned round a second time to look at themoon. A white face appeared quite close to her, with a mist, hanginglike a garment from its shoulders. "Stop! carry me to consecratedearth," sounded in her ears, in strange, hollow tones. The sound didnot come from frogs or ravens; she saw no sign of such creatures. "Agrave! dig me a grave!" was repeated quite loud. Yes, it was indeedthe spectre of her child. The child that lay beneath the ocean, andwhose spirit could have no rest until it was carried to thechurchyard, and until a grave had been dug for it in consecratedground. She would go there at once, and there she would dig. Sheturned in the direction of the church, and the weight on her heartseemed to grow lighter, and even to vanish altogether; but when sheturned to go home by the shortest way, it returned. "Stop! stop!"and the words came quite clear, though they were like the croak of afrog, or the wail of a bird. "A grave! dig me a grave!"

　　The mist was cold and damp, her hands and face were moist andclammy with horror, a heavy weight again seized her and clung toher, her mind became clear for thoughts that had never before beenthere.

　　In these northern regions, a beech-wood often buds in a singlenight and appears in the morning sunlight in its full glory ofyouthful green. So, in a single instant, can the consciousness ofthe sin that has been committed in thoughts, words, and actions of ourpast life, be unfolded to us. When once the conscience is awakened, itsprings up in the heart spontaneously, and God awakens theconscience when we least expect it. Then we can find no excuse forourselves; the deed is there and bears witness against us. Thethoughts seem to become words, and to sound far out into the world. Weare horrified at the thought of what we have carried within us, and atthe consciousness that we have not overcome the evil which has itsorigin in thoughtlessness and pride. The heart conceals withinitself the vices as well as the virtues, and they grow in theshallowest ground. Anne Lisbeth now experienced in thought what wehave clothed in words. She was overpowered by them, and sank downand crept along for some distance on the ground. "A grave!